Hi Friends!
I want to leave Florida and move back to St. Louis. Woah, whiplash! I know, sorry to drop it like a bomb in the very first sentence but that’s literally what this entire post is about, so why beat around the bush? I never thought the words “I want to move back to St. Louis” would ever come out of my mouth, but here we are. The joke about how your frontal lobe fully develops at 25 is all fun and games until it actually happens and then by 26, your entire perspective on life has shifted and you’re only half as certain about life as you were at 18. That’s how it feels at least.
The only thing in the entire world that I have ever been 100% certain of, no matter my age, is that I wanted to move to Florida, and once I finally made it here in 2022, I knew I wanted to stay forever. Nothing would ever change my mind. I was certain of it. But my fully developed frontal lobe apparently has other plans.
It’s been a little over 4 years now since I moved from Missouri to Florida, and I don’t want to give off the impression that there’s any fault that lies within Florida, because that’s simply not true. Florida is everything, it’s perfect. The beaches, the palm trees, the warm weather – it’s quite literally just as amazing as I had always dreamed about growing up, and exactly what I’ve wanted my whole life. I could stay here forever, I’d be perfectly happy with this life and I know that. Which is actually making me feel even more conflicted about feeling like I want to leave.
For the first 3 years that I lived here, I felt no homesickness. I didn’t miss St. Louis in the slightest. Not during fall, not for holidays, not ever. I loved being in FL, in the heat, and by the beach 24/7. Nothing in St. Louis, nothing else at all could have overridden those feelings of loving FL so much. I still do love Florida that much – I even still feel that “I can’t believe I really live here” feeling every day. However, I can recall the exact moment from a year ago that planted the first miniscule sliver of doubt in my head of is this really what I want? It was a trip home and 5 words from my mom that ignited a feeling in me that I hadn’t felt before, and I didn’t like it.
I was visiting St. Louis for a long weekend in October, and was in the car with my mom (mom, since I know you’re reading – we were at 141 and Burgundy. Did you know you used to live off of Henry? LOL). She made a comment about passing down her real estate business to a family friend when the time comes rather than me “since you’re never moving back.” Since you’re never moving back. “Huh?” I thought. “Now wait a damn minute. Who said that?” Except, it was me. I said that. Many times. I have uttered the exact phrase “I am never moving back” countless times, to friends and family alike. I am never moving back. It was just a fact. I knew it to be true in the same way that I know my name is Madeline. However, when I heard the same words come out of someone else’s mouth, I didn’t like it. I felt a tug in my gut for the first time since living in Florida – a sense of “wait, stop, don’t say that.” It bothered me, but why should it? “Why did that just make me feel this way?” I thought to myself. When I think about it now, it’s because it solidified the notion, which I had always known but apparently didn’t fully grasp until that moment, that living in Florida is not temporary and that life in St. Louis was going to continue whether I was there or not. I could choose to stay in Florida but if I did, one day decades from now, life in St. Louis would be unrecognizable to me. I would no longer recognize when one business closed and a new one took its place, or notice that a house I’d driven by hundreds of times had been painted a different color. It would always be where I grew up, but it wouldn’t be my life anymore. And I didn’t like that at all.
In the car at the time, I said nothing. At most, I think I probably mumbled in agreement with my mom and the conversation moved on, but in my head I was spiraling. My thoughts were spinning and the poor little Inside Out cartoon characters that were standing at the control panel in my brain had no idea what buttons to press next. It upset me for a few minutes and tears welled up in my eyes, but I was able to convince myself that she was right – I’m staying in Florida, my family is staying in Missouri, and that’s just life. It’s a part of growing up, right? I mean, aren’t kids supposed to grow up, move away and make their own lives for themselves? That’s all it was. I just needed to accept that St. Louis wasn’t my life anymore, Florida is, and that’s what I want. So why was I having to hold back tears? Obviously, I didn’t want to come back. Right? Then, my fully developed frontal lobe took those words and nailed them front and center to the whiteboard in my brain, making sure I’d never forget them.
From then on, my “I’m never moving home” mindset started to shift. Very, very slowly, but it was shifting nonetheless. For the next few months, and with my mom’s words always in the back of my head, I got homesick slightly more often, especially for the rest of that particular season. Knowing that STL was littered with fall foliage, something I haven’t seen in person since I left in 2022, or knowing that my entire family was having Thanksgiving dinner and my seat was the only one missing from the table, it all hit me hard that year. Like a punch in the gut but worse. All of the things I hadn’t missed up until that point, I was starting to wish I had at my fingertips again. I convinced myself that it was just because I miss fall, which I’ve always loved. I told myself that come January, I wouldn’t still want to return and I’d look back and laugh at how emotional and silly I was.
Now, that is partially true – I did not miss St. Louis much in January and February. That’s one of the biggest reasons I had always yearned to leave and was so happy to have done so – I hate winter. Like, take the average person who says they hate winter, times it by 10, then make it worse, and that’s how much I hate winter. However, when I thought back to how I felt that day in the car, I still felt that longing feeling. Even in the middle of January, knowing how dead and grey and gloomy and gross life was back in St. Louis, a part of me still wished I was there. I knew deep down that I should listen to that feeling, but I was trying not to. The feeling has never fully gone away since then. In fact, it’s done nothing but grow.
I don’t want to call it homesickness, because there’s a lot more that goes into my thought process than just “missing home,” but I suppose that’s what it is. I’ve spent every day since last year’s trip trying to figure out if this nagging feeling in my heart is just a severe case of “homesickness” or if it’s something more. If it’s just because I’m homesick, why won’t it go away? Even when I’m living it up here in Florida, spending a Saturday at the beach frolicking through the ocean with my goggles and loving every second of it, I still wonder how life would feel to be back in Missouri. At what point do I stop trying to write off my feelings as homesickness and ask myself if it’s something more? Why won’t it stop?
Then came my most recent trip home, which was a pivotal point in how I viewed things. I traveled to St. Louis last month for my bridal shower and a few days’ visit. Another unexpected conversation really threw me off and instantly had me holding back tears. It was with Cassidy, the sweet lady who waxes my eyebrows and has done so since I was in middle school. I made an appointment as I hadn’t seen her in a couple years, and naturally we were catching up. “Do you think you’ll ever move back here?” she asked. Rather than immediately responding with hell effing no, as I would have 2 years prior, I said maybe. I told her what I’d been thinking about. How I love Florida, it’s perfect. But moving back would give me the chance at a lifelong career with my mom and allow me to be near family again. I told her how I miss the seasons, I miss the local restaurants, I miss knowing the ins and outs of where I live like the back of my hand. Am I really going to look all of that in the face and turn it down? For what? Just to live closer to the beach? But at the same time, how could I ever willingly leave Florida, a place I loved living and had dreamed about my entire life? What was worth it, what wasn’t, and how on earth am I supposed to figure that out?
Her words hit me like a punch in the gut: “If I was 26 again and faced with those choices, I’d come back. I feel like that’s just too good of a life to pass up.” Maybe I already knew that deep down or maybe hearing someone who isn’t even a close relative speak it into existence was what I needed, but that comment struck me harder than a dump truck could. What she said lined up perfectly with the gut feeling I’d had for the last 6 months – the exact feeling I’d been trying to convince myself was wrong. Hearing someone else, Cassidy of all people, speak it into existence it without me saying it first really hit different. Of course, my immediate family and friends are biased, so their opinions on the situation can be a bit skewed. But if a distant friend, someone I only see once every couple years, says exactly what I had been thinking, then what the hell am I doing? Does everyone think I’m a fool if I pass up the opportunity to have a life in St. Louis, or is it really just me who thinks I’d be a fool to turn it down? For the first time, I felt like I could feel Florida slipping away, and there was nothing I could do about it because deep down I knew coming home would be the right choice. I was confused, because Florida has always been my dream. My only dream. And now all of a sudden, I didn’t think that it was what I wanted anymore.
That trip completely rewired how I picture the next 20 years of my life looking. It was a combination of a lot of things: the conversation I had with Cassidy, and her take on the topic. Seeing all of my favorite people, some who I hadn’t seen in years, all in the same place for my bridal shower. Going to the Cardinals game (my first one in years) with my parents and a big group of family-friends. Sitting in the living room and hanging out with my grandparents while they watch tv at a volume much too high for the average person. Even the smallest of details were pulling at my heart strings – the summer cicadas making their sunset noise outside, seeing lightning bugs for the first time in 4 years, the host at one of my favorite restaurants waving goodbye and smiling at me with the friendly, Midwestern attitude that no one in Florida seems to have. It all made me want to smile with joy because I was living it in real time, yet also burst into tears because I knew I was about to have to leave it all again, and I didn’t want to. I was envious of everyone. Everyone who lives there. My friends. My family. Everyone who gets to see each other whenever they want. Everyone who gets to experience all 4 seasons, whose children get to grow up in one of the best cities.
One of the best cities. I had to check myself because there’s no way I had just subconsciously considered St. Louis to be one of the best cities. But there was no denying the recurring thought – I did, indeed, just label it as that. And what was even more shocking is suddenly, the list of things I loved about St. Louis long outweighed the things I didn’t. Even aspects that I used to not blink twice at, like the lush greenery and hilly landscape, were things that I now noticed and yearned to have back. All of these little details that I didn’t even realize were there until I lost them were creating one big picture of the future, and I could see myself living it. Exactly like I did growing up, except this time I’d appreciate it more because I’ve experienced what it’s like to live without them. That was pretty much my answer, and from there, my mind was made up.
The first few days back in FL were really rough. A lot of sadness, a lot of sniffling, a lot of deep longing to return to Missouri – a feeling I’d never ever felt before. Feeling homesick immediately following a trip to STL is normal for me but usually it only lasts a few days. The way I felt this time was different, though. It was a deep sadness, one that hurt me literally down to my core. I felt like my heart was physically being wrung out like a washcloth, to the point where I couldn’t breathe. I kept waiting for the sadness to go away like after past trips, and while I eventually did stop weeping at the mere mention of the Midwest, the sadness is still there. It’s not a boo-hoo, sobbing sadness – more like the faintest lingering feeling in my gut of wanting to go home. I’m happy, though. Happy to be in Florida, happy with life in general. My life here is great. I accomplished my dream. I know what it’s like to live in Florida now because I did it. I’m doing it. I love it every day. I just think it’s time to go home.
Even now, weeks later, my decision still stands that returning home is the path I want to take. A stable, life-long career? Easy. Being near family and massive support system? Even easier. My kids growing up in the same “community” style city that I did? No brainer. The joy of experiencing all 4 seasons? Something I couldn’t wait to get away from, but now pine for, quite literally even in my dreams. I challenged myself to see if it’s really what I want before I confirmed it to Chad. If family weren’t a factor, would I still want to be there? I would. Chad’s my family now too, and St. Louis is a great place to raise children. If I didn’t do real estate with my mom and I either kept my current job or had a different, random one, would I still want to be there? Still yes. Are the sub-zero, disgusting January and February months worth enduring in order to be present for everything else? That was a hard one for me to get over, but ultimately, I decided yes on that one too.
Of course it’s not just my decision, it’s Chad’s too. We’re getting married in 6 months, and he has just as much of a say as I do at the end of the day. Missouri isn’t home for him like it is for me, but he likes it. Loves it, actually. He says he wants to get out of Florida, though I know he does have some hesitations. I know he would love it, though. I can picture our life in Missouri very clearly, so I hope he comes around to the conclusion that it would be a positive change. Either way, we will be in Florida for at least 2 more years since we own our house, and who knows what direction life could take us in by then. Not to get all religious on everyone, but I know if God sees it fit, then it will happen regardless.
Change is not my friend. It never has been and it never will be. I don’t like the thought that either choice comes with a huge loss. I don’t like not knowing if my time left in Florida is scarce, or if something will change and I’ll wind up being here forever like I originally swore I would. I just don’t like not knowing what’s going to happen period, but such is life, I guess. I do know one thing for sure, though: being 26 years old and trying to figure out which path to choose when both come with a depressing loss and either one would quite literally change the trajectory of my entire life, is not for the faint of heart.
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